


One Bad Stunt

by DraniKitty



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Mild Language, but still a very painful injury, comical injury, stunt lads, welcome to the stunt lads show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraniKitty/pseuds/DraniKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stunt Lads are given a new stunt to perform, but they're not TOO sure about it.</p><p>(Yogscast, Hat Films... If any of you want to read this one, I am ENTIRELY fine with it!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Bad Stunt

**Author's Note:**

> This came up because of a scream of Ross' in the latest(As of this posting) GTA5 playlist video when he, according to Smith, "Screamed like he had a pineapple shoved up his ass the wrong way." It led to a mental image, and this was born.

Despite outright hobbling, Ross was keeping a fair bit ahead of Smith and Trott. "No, get away from me!"

"Ross, get back here, we have to get them out!" Trott held up a small pair of pliers, rubber gloves on his hands. They weren't the standard Stunt Lads gloves, nor was his clothing. Similarly beside him, Smith was wearing simple pants and a t-shirt.

"You just want to torture me!"

"Why do- ROSS!" Smith hurried his pace, using his long legs to advantage. In a quick move, he grabbed Ross and pulled him over to a table in their shared apartment. "Bend over!" He leaned slightly, glaring at the gloved hand that tried to shove at his face. "Don't make me tie you down on your stomach!"

Ross struggled, trying to get away. "No, you can't make m-" His words were cut off by a sharp scream of pain. Trott stood up triumphantly behind him, a long cactus needle clutched in the pliers.

"I got one!"

"WARN a man!"

"We tried that, sunshine, but YOU ran away." Dropping the needle on the table, Trott motioned at Smith. "Let's pull him across the table, then I can get leverage."

As he was positioned by his two friends across the table, Ross at that point could only sob in pain. There was nothing to numb it, as each needle was yanked out, and he could only play over in his head how he had even wound up with cactus needles in the soft flesh of his ass.

* * *

 

"I want you all to do back-flips over some cactuses out by the airport, GREAT publicity!"

The three stared at the phone, before Smith pulled back his hood and his mask off. "I'm sorry, you want us to WHAT?"

The voice on the other end was excited. "Yeah! Get on some Sanchezes, speed up a ramp, and do a back flip over some cactuses! It'll be great!"

There was hesitation, before Trott asked, "What's the pay?"

"Because the sponsors were SO impressed with your improvisation last time, they're giving us TEN GRAND! Of course after all the fees and taxes and such, that comes out to a budget of six hundred."

"And the insurance...?" Memories played in all their minds of Trott's... Accident.

"What insurance?! Now get to it!" There was a click, signalling that their agent had hung up. The trio could only stare at each other with mild worry, before heading off to the Blaine County Airport.

What they had expected, and what they found, were two different things. What they had EXPECTED was to go over one or two cacti in a flip. What they FOUND was more akin to a 'jump the row of cars' stunt.

"Whelp, who's the first sucker to do this?"

Both Trott and Ross clapped Smith on the back, as Trott grinned behind his mask, "So kind of you to volunteer, Smith!"

"What, ME?! And come out of this looking like a living cactus?!"

Ross shoved him at the three Sanchezes that had been lined up. "Look, just do it so we can get this shoot over with. And TRY to avoid crashing into those things!"

Thankfully, Smith's stunt went off without a hitch. He raced up the ramp, flying into the air, where he did a back flip over the line of cacti, before landing safely on the ramp at the other end. Trott, going the other direction, did fine as well with his own front-flip.

And then it was Ross' turn. He looked at the cacti, then at his Sanchez, then his two friends. "I don't think I can top a back fip OR a front flip."

Rubbing his chin, Smith looked from side to side at the cacti and the ramps, then went and grabbed his own Sanchez. "I know exactly how! Ross, you jump from THAT end, and I'll jump from THIS end, we'll pass each other in the middle... High five or something as we pass doing back flips, land safe on the other side."

"That... DOES sound pretty awesome." Despite the hesitation, despite the worry that something would go wrong, Ross nodded and went to his Sanchez.

* * *

 

His screams had long-since ended and the sobbing had turned to whimpers by the time Trott pulled the last needle out. He could only stare numbly at the wall, hiccup a bit, and wish that it had been somebody else who landed ass-first on the cactus.

They stripped him down, in a gentle and tender way only friends did, and sprayed Neosporin over his angry red skin, before gently dressing him in boxers and putting him to bed, laying on his stomach. Trott gruffled his hair, smiling as gently as he could. "You did good, sunshine."

Ross only closed his eyes, arms hugging the pillow, as the light was turned out and door shut. The life of a stunt performer was PAINFUL and dangerous, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.


End file.
